


The Book of Places

by FishOuttaWater



Category: Original Work
Genre: Fantasy, Gen, european fantasy, hidden magical worlds, hungarian inspired fantasy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:22:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26978788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FishOuttaWater/pseuds/FishOuttaWater
Summary: Este is a woodworking backpacker who has never been able to stay in one place, but when she takes up the unique job opportunity to restorate an ancient church, she stumbles upon a forgotten world.





	The Book of Places

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there, welcome! I'm writing this as an exercise to see if I could ever finish an original unpolished story. There'll be lots of errors but I'm really excited to see where this takes me.

Este walked from morning until evening, until her legs ached and her cheeks were rosy. She was a backpacker who had been travelling on her own for around a year, living on freelance jobs.

Este considered herself a woodcarver, but often ended up doing other things instead, like shaving sheep, building fences and fixing cars. It was on this day that she found herself somewhere remote and north, piled in warm sweaters and coats to keep warm, following an old dirt trail through untouched meadows. Everything was orange and red with fall.

At a fork in the road, when the sun had begun to set, an amazing smell reached her nose. Stew, herbal tea, roast, bread fresh out of the oven. It made her drool. Suddenly, she heard a hard trotting and stepped to the side just as a man dressed in folk garb thundered by on horseback.

"Hah!" He exclaimed as he passed her, only one hand holding the stirrups as he tried to keep his very wide brimmed hat on his head. He had pink, pock-marked skin, a short black beard and sparkling, buggy eyes. Steam flared from the horse's nostrils. Este gaped, and started jogging after him. There hadn't been anyone on the trail behind her, in fact she hadn't seen anyone in hours! She crested a hill and stopped to catch her breath, but when she looked up her eyes widened in awe.

At the foot of the hill was a village, full of small, old white cottages with red, metal rooves and ivy straddled walls. In the low evening light, people were dancing in pairs to an energetic live band, cooking over a large bonfire and seated at long wooden tables overflowing with food. Massive horses, bigger than any that Este had ever seen before, grazed in a field as their riders kicked an apple between each other using the heels of their boots and laughed drunkenly. There was a strange buzz in the air all the while.

The stranger had now stopped and was speaking to another man who seemed to be taking a break from the celebration, and Este marvelled at his interesting outfit. He wore a white blouse embroidered with colourful flowers and a strip of lether tied loosely around his neck. Thrown over his back was a heavy-looking sheepskin cloak, and his black hat was as wide-brimmed as ever. He leaned heavily on a polished wooden cane, despite his age, and smiled coyly. He was the only one dressed like this, but no one seemed to care.

"Ah! A new face, welcome to North Rosemarine. Are you here for the celebration?" The horseman's companion called out to her with a wave. He was an elderly man with a long bushy moustache, leaning on a low, stacked stone fence and smoking a pipe. One of his knobbly finger had a striking silver ring on it, and he smelled like ale. Este nodded.

"My name is Este Fakopács, I'm just a traveller, really." She slipped a green backpack off her shoulders and pulled out a cloth package which she unrolled on the ground. Layed on the blanket were a series of handcarved wooden objects; spoons, bowls, human and animal figures. "I'm also a woodworker. If there's anyone who needs a job done around here, I'd love to offer my help in return for some food and a place to stay."

The old man smiled knowingly.

"Oh, I do know someone."


End file.
